Supernova
by Writless
Summary: It's time for Fitz to take a break from being an interstellar magnet of chaos. She's giving it a go, except, well. This woman pops up in her basement asking for help, and then promptly kidnaps her. Now they're stuck together until they can stop the Eternals, who are bent on the end of all things. She did try to stay out of it. Sort of. Part Three of Starlight series
1. Prologue

_A/N: Wow. Welcome! This is the third part in an ongoing series that I'm referring to as the 'Starlight' series because I haven't managed to come up with something clever and poignant to name it. If you are confused as to what I'm talking about, I highly recommend you check out my profile and take a look at 'Starlight' and 'Keeping the Stars Apart' as those are both parts one and two of...you guessed it, the Starlight series. Or you can just start reading here because you're a total renegade. I like your style, man. I'm including a vague summary of the previous installment, as well as a summary for the story itself so you can get the gist of what's going down. Please read and enjoy! Please review! I love reviews! And if you feel the urge to give an in depth review involving constructive criticism, I will absolutely stand up and do a dance. You can choose the dance. _

_**Previously on:** Traveling with the Doctor is definitely something Fitz would classify as interesting. Interesting in the way being sold on the galactic black market for body parts is. Or falling out of the universe into an old Time Lord prison. Or being attacked by zombified prisoners of said prison. And then turned inside out by a renegade time lord who just wanted to go home. Yeah. It was definitely interesting. Or psychotic, depending on your view point. She did manage to survive, through sheer dumb luck and a few friends. She also sort of restarted her relationship with an amnesiac alien, so it hasn't all been bad._

_**Summary:** The Doctor has asked Fitz to sit on the sidelines for a bit, at least until they deal with the whole 'homicidal time lord who has it out for her' business. It's a little boring, but she doesn't mind. She's got her own coffee shop she's running, a nice new apartment that always smells like espresso, and a steady boyfriend, who despite not remembering every detail of their past affairs, still kinda likes her. Things are actually going surprisingly well in her new chill super mellow life. Which is why it sort of puts a kink in everything when a time traveler shows up in her basement and kidnaps her. It's par for the course until she realizes that they've managed to be yanked right out of their universe into another. Things can only get worse when she realizes she's meant to sort out this 'Eternals' mess, and oh yeah, the whole fabric of reality is counting on it. No pressure or anything. _

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><p>The popping noise should have been Fitzgerald Grant's first clue that something was wrong. Unfortunately, she was too busy climbing up the metal shelves in the basement and trying to avoid burying herself in an avalanche of coffee beans, to pay it much attention.<p>

"Gotcha," she heaved one of the bags to the floor. She then carefully made her way back down the shelves, which hadn't really been made for climbing, but Fitz was innovative. Also, she lacked a ladder.

"Sorry about this," a voice from behind startled her. "But I really need your help."

Fitz turned around, discovering that she was no longer alone in the cafe basement. There was a woman standing there who was a handful of years younger than herself. Tall, dark-skinned, and dressed in some kind of utilitarian uniform. Her short black hair was shaved away on half her scalp, leaving the remainder as a wavy mohawk.

"Whoa, cool hair."

"What?" The woman frowned at her.

"Um. The door says employees only." Fitz attempted to recover some of her authority as the café manager.

"Door?" The woman acted as though it were a foreign concept. Fitz pointed up the stairs as a friendly reminder. But the woman didn't appear to be interested in trivial things like 'doors' or 'restricted access'.

"Look," she said with a shake of her head. "This is going to sound crazy, but I've been sent from the future. I really need you to come with me."

Fitz considered laughing, but then remembered, abruptly, how all the other crazy sounding events in her life had gone.

"I need an adult!" She shouted.

"You're ridiculous," the woman rolled her eyes, fiddling with her watch. As though she'd just popped downstairs to frighten Fitz, and then wanted to check the time.

"Fitzgerald?" A high cheek boned, dark haired, pale, and supremely stern looking man stood at the top of the stairs.

"Oh shit," the woman said as she saw him. She launched herself at Fitz, who failed to jump back far enough to dodge the awkward bear hug. "Time to go." She slapped her watch while still pinning Fitz against her chest. That was when Fitz realized it wasn't a watch, but a vortex manipulator. And also that the woman was quite strong.

"_Crap_, she's got a-" Fitz tried to warn the man who was racing toward her. Desperate to bring a stop to whatever this stranger was hoping to accomplish. But it was too late, because with another popping sound, they were gone.


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: Oh my god guys. You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome! Thank you so so much for all your support and your excited messages! Seriously, that was just absurdly overwhelming and I had all sorts of generally pleasant squeeing feelings. You. Guys. Are. Awesome. HUGS FOR EVERYONE._

_Also, you should totally check out AshRain114's art of Fitz. I have no idea how to link in a story but I'm putting it on my profile. It's the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me. And it's AWESOME._

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><p>There was something to be said about traveling by Tardis. Namely, that it wasn't whatever the hell we'd just experienced. It felt like being stir-fried. And then stretched out like taffy, and subsequently boiled. Everything was awful, and spin-y, and <em>blurry<em>.

No, hang on, that's just my glasses getting knocked off my face.

There, things were less blurry, but still powerfully nauseating. Every joint ached and my head felt a little explodey. A _lot_ explodey. It was on par with one of my worse hangovers, thank you_ Jack_, but with the addition of having an elephant crushing me. Unpleasant was probably the most polite way to describe it.

Fucking _awful_ is what I was going with.

"Urk," is what actually came out of my mouth. Couldn't yet handle standing, so I was on my hands and knees, half squinting at the ground.

"Sorry, Vorma travel is a little rough if you're not used to it." Chimed in captain obvious. It was a little infuriating that she'd managed to remain upright. She didn't even _sound_ like she was going to spill her guts all over the place. Showoff.

"Nah," I finally said, closing my eyes in an attempt to make the spinning stop. Nope. Bad idea. I opened them again, and while it hadn't stopped, it was certainly slowing. That would have to be enough. If I'd had more to eat than like, four shots of espresso, it would probably be decorating the dusty orange ground beneath me. Thank god for poor breakfast decisions. "This was great. Let's go again."

"Happy to hear that, since it looks like we've missed the mark." She better not be serious. Pretty sure I just dry heaved thinking about trying that again.

"Oh good. Not only are you a kidnapper, but you're a _bad_ kidnapper." With a grunt, I finally pushed myself up from the ground. She probably couldn't fully appreciate my snide attitude if I was at her knees. It was important that she appreciate it.

Of course, my next snotty comment choked off when I finally bothered to survey our surroundings. We were in the middle of some kind of dusty desert valley, jagged red teeth rose up on the distant horizon of an otherwise flat plain. Very Mars _chic_.

But it was sort of the sky that had most of my attention. The purple hue was a little disconcerting, but the enormous yellow Saturn looking planet was really what caught my eye, since it basically took up the entire upper atmosphere. My mouth kind of hung open for a moment. There had been plenty of impressive things to see on the Tardis, but this was the first time I'd actually been _dumbstruck_. Well, by something other than an awkward conversation.

"I'm not a kidnapper." She muttered, still sparing more attention for her badly programmed wristwatch than myself. Her petulant tone brought me back from my space gazing.

"Really, because when I look it up in the dictionary, I'm betting I'm going to find a grouchy picture of you-"

"Kidnapping: to steal, carry off, or abduct by force or fraud, especially for use as a hostage or to extract ransom." She rattled off in an alarmingly rapid fashion. "There's no hostage or ransom intention here. Maybe some mild coercion, but I was kind of in a rush." She stole the thunder of my stupid joke, which was annoying. But also her encyclopedic knowledge had sort of dulled my sparkle.

"Holy crap I've been kidnapped by a _robot_."

"I'm not-jesus." She shook her head. Her decidedly android looking head. I mean, who pulls off a fauxhawk like that in real life? No one. No one can pull that off. It's _definitely_ a wig.

"Yeah, as soon as I get this piece of junk working again, I'm taking you back where I found you." She thwacked it against her hip a few times. Somewhat reassuring to know that in the future, physical abuse was still a valid form of troubleshooting. "I grabbed you too early anyway. This has got to be _way_ before the vale incident."

"Before the what?" It was reassuring to hear she planned to put me back, less so that it sounded like she had plans on coming back for me at a later date. "I'm sorry, who even are you?"

"I'm Max," she said with an irritated sigh. "And this is just _such_ a stupid idea. I thought I could- God." She ruffled her hair, making it stick up more than it had before. "This has just been such a _shitty_ week."

It was easy to recognize the warbling tone in her voice as someone who was about to lose it. I should have been gleeful, but since it was something I'd experienced pretty regularly in my travels, it was hard to relish the victory.

"Listen, I'm not really in the kidnapping business, but it's generally more professional to pretend that things are going according to plan." At least that's how the Doctor always played it. He seemed to know what he was doing. Most of the time. Or never. But the point was that he _looked_ like he knew what he was doing.

"Thanks for that."

"Also, what kind of a name is Max? Isn't that like, a _dog's_ name?"

"Yeah, you're one to speak, eh, Fitzgerald?" Her green eyes glared at me, evidently I'd hit a nerve.

"Well at least it's not a dog- Hey, how the _hell_ do you know who I am?" Because she was a robot, _obviously_.

"Read it in your file." She said in an offhand way, like it wasn't remotely alarming. You know who had files on people? Robots. Another damning piece of evidence that the robot apocalypse had arrived and I'd somehow found myself smack dab in the middle of it. The Professor was going to be supremely smug about that. I mean, immediately after he was done being furious about it.

Couldn't blame him really, since my penchant for trouble was starting to annoy even myself.

"File? What file?" What kind of robot wants a file on _me_ of all people? Was it a medical history? Or was it more thorough. Like, did they know about that time in second grade when I accidently stabbed Stacey Martin in the eye with a writing utensil? She just sort of took a dive into my hand when I was holding a freshly sharpened pencil. I'm not sure how she _thought_ that was going to turn out, but she definitely had worn an eye patch until the summer. The point was, no one pressed charges, and I really shouldn't be held responsible for that sort of thing.

Or maybe it had my credit score in there, which would be useful, since I had no idea what that was.

"Nothing. It's not important. I'm just going to reset this and we'll be off. You can write it off as a bad dream. Just…try and be a little less _hostile_ when I show up next time, right?"

"Sweetheart," My most condescending smile plastered itself on my face. "You have not yet _seen_ hostility. If I've got a file, then it damn well better show that somewhere. I've worked _years_ to master my hostility, and this? This is not even the tip of the enchilada."

"Oh come _on_!" She was angry at the vortex manipulator again, not even listening to my threatening speech about hostility. That was annoying, since I'd busted out my extra ominous glare. My eyes searched the ground for a rock, not to throw it, just to…look like I _might_ throw it.

Unfortunately, out in the middle of dusty ass nowhere, there were no rocks. Only finely powdered orange dust that was slowly coating the lenses of my glasses, and everything else I was wearing.

She continued to mutter at her wrist, fiddling with dials in some attempt to get it working again, but I wasn't listening. The breeze had picked up, blowing the particle fine grit directly into my face, but it also made a strange wheezing noise. One that was slowly growing louder, and more recognizable.

"Hah!" That was the Tardis, which was good, because if we were going to be stuck on this planet much longer, there were fairly good odds that I was about to resemble an oompa loompa. "Now you're in for it."

The nice thing about your extended network of friends being time travelers is that it might take them a bit to get organized, and even a while to track you down, and there was most _probably_ an extended break where they all had to argue about whose fault it was that I'd gotten into trouble this time. _But_, eventually, they always made a well-timed entrance and, ideally, rescue.

Max looked up then, the sound now too obvious to be mistaken for wind. Less than a few feet from us, a blue box started to flicker into view.

"Great," she actually sounded relieved, which was sort of unexpected. "He can sort this thing out."

"No. You don't get to be _excited_. He's not going to help you sort anything. He's going to take you to a space prison and make sure you're eating freeze dried potatoes for the rest of your life." It wasn't super clear to me if there actually was such thing as a 'space prison'. Or if they served freeze dried vegetables. But it was important to me that she knew she couldn't just snatch people out of their jobs and expect things to work out all hunky dory.

"You're a bit ridiculous," Her eyebrow once again raised in my direction. "You know that?"

"Yes, the file _definitely_ should have mentioned that." Starting to be real unimpressed with the file, as a whole. Whoever was keeping their records, had done a shoddy job of it. It had somehow missed my hostility _and_ my ridiculousness. If 'idiot' wasn't in there somewhere, underlined several times, I was calling bullshit on the whole thing. That's not a file, that's a picture of my face with my name written on it.

"Here we are," the Tardis doors opened, but instead of the familiar bow tie wearing doofus, some stranger stepped out. "The second Apocryphal of Murish." He was tall and stringy looking. He wore a blue pinstriped suit, with a flapping brown jacket over it, likely to protect him from the blowing orange dust that pretty much covered every inch of me now. He pulled off his glasses and stared at us, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Well who the _hell_ are you?" I blurted out in a slightly uncouth way. He opened his mouth to argue, but I squawked and leapt backwards, because something else had rolled out of the Tardis behind him. It was nearly as tall as him, bulbous round protrusions stuck out from its sides, all in a gleaming coppery color. It was something I'd seen before, streaking across the skies of a war torn Gallifrey. "Hit the deck! It's a killer salt shaker!"


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello all, I would just like to take this opportunity to inform you that while this is _technically_ ten, the plan is for him to be a more 'time lord victorious-y' ten. So he's likely to be somewhat OOC. Additionally, there are all sorts of different things that happened in this universe, but I have no idea if I'll be able to cover them all without being too info dumpy, so if you have any specific questions, feel free to ask, and I will answer them to the best of my abilities. Unless I'm for sure going to cover it at some point, and then I'll just answer with a "we may never know, mwahahahahaha" And at that point you should look up a gif of Mark Gatiss cackling to get a better idea of how I looked when responding. Thank you all for reading!_

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><p>"I'm the Doctor, this is-"<p>

"EXTERMINATE!" The shiny trashcan rolled past him, its head swinging back and forth searching for a target. I clutched Max's legs to keep her between me and death. She was a kidnapper after all, that made her human shield compatible. But she seemed frozen in place, so it wasn't too hard to keep her pinned.

"Oswin," the man said sharply to the metal bin. "That's enough."

"What? She called me a _salt shaker_," the tinny voice managed to sound indignant, despite the fact that it resembled a gravely GPS. "'Sides, it's funny."

Oh good, a robot with a personality. There was definitely no way this was going to end well.

"Yes, well, you're going to get yourself _shot_ one of these times, and I'm not about to stop them." The man, instead of terrified of what I had thought was the most dangerous alien in the universe, just looked annoyed.

"You're such a spoilsport." It huffed and rolled to a stop.

"Anyway," the man shook his head at the sullen robot. Yeah, I had seen at least a dozen movies on how this ended in a whole ship full of people getting straight up murdered. Moody appliances are _not_ a good thing. "This is Oswin. Who-" he paused, noticing that I was still crouched down behind Max. "You…you can stand up. We're not going to hurt you. Wouldn't want you to stain your…apron."

He didn't seem particularly impressed with my cafe wear, which was fully coated after my swan dive into the ground. But then, the rest of me was pretty orange powdered too, so I wasn't sure what his actual point was. Probably that I looked like an idiot on the ground. Right.

"But…it's one of those things…from the time war." The name was escaping me, but he had a Tardis, he'd get the gist. Hopefully.

"Well, yes, of a sort- How do you know about the time war?" His eyes narrowed on me, like my panic attack and generally undignified demeanor made it impossible to know about galactic politics. He probably wasn't far off on that assumption.

"I know lots of things," I shrugged, if I play it cool, maybe I look like less of a jackass. "Do they just have a space ship vending machine out there somewhere?" I gave the trash can a wide birth as I approached the blue box. It definitely looked like the same machine, but maybe it was like a sports car. Maybe there was an alien octopus on a used Tardis lot somewhere, wheeling and dealing.

"Em _no_…" his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "This is the only one."

Well that was worrying. "Where did you find it?" My thumb picked at the wood exterior. It sure seemed the same, but then I had no idea. The other Tardis had been wood, right? Maybe? If I had known there was going to be a test later, I might have tried to pay attention.

"I didn't _find_ it anywhere. It's _my_ ship."

Maybe it was just a really extreme version of Halloween. Maybe the Doctor even had a fan club. Was that possible? People who like, lived and breathed that dork with the bow tie? Because I would _absolutely_ make fun of him for that. Actually, scratch that, because he was probably immensely pleased about that sort of thing. What a dork.

"No, this is the _Doctor's_ ship-"

"Yes. That _is_ what I just said."

I ignored his condescending commentary. "_So_ if you've got his ship, then that means you've done something to him," he was too stringy looking to have actually _killed_ him, but that didn't mean he wasn't tied up somewhere. I mean, if I had managed to knock him out, that meant anyone probably could. "So where is he?"

"What do you mean _done_ something to him? I _am_ the Doctor. Who the stars are you?"

"I'm Fitz, which you would know, _if_ you were the Doctor. But you're not." I tried the door, but it was locked. Which was probably a bad sign. "Did you steal it and leave him somewhere?" My shoulder bounced off the door. TV really gave me a false sense of how easy it was to break through wood, because it didn't give at all. "Because he's kind of an idiot, so I could totally see-_OW_!" I jumped three feet in the air and slammed my forehead against the Tardis. "That was my _ass_ you metal turtle!" Oswin had stealthed up behind me and given my backside a sharp pinch. It was only now that I realized where the laser bit should be, was a mechanical arm. "So uncool!"

"Shouldn't be calling the Doctor names." A moody and overly protective robot. Yeah. I was doomed.

"He's _not_ the Doctor. I don't know what he told you, but the Doctor is a gangly looking weirdo who wears a bow tie and he's got floppy hair and he _really_ doesn't wear sneakers."

The man looked down at his shoes with a frown. "What's wrong with trainers?"

"He is the Doctor," Max, who I'd nearly forgotten about, interrupted us in a shaky voice.

"Right, I'm definitely going to listen to my _kidnapper_. That seems like a solid plan." She got points for not shooting me, or punching me in the face. Yay for kidnappers who meet the lowest bar of human decency.

"We need to leave," she came to some sort of decision as she crossed the distance between us, leaving behind an orange cloud. "Really, like _immediately_."

"Listen, I'm a hundred percent with you, but if he's got the Doctor handcuffed in here, I can't just _leave_ him."

"No, it's a different-"

"Who did you say you were?" The man in the suit stepped between us, the first useful thing he'd done since showing up.

"I didn't." Max really had an impressive glare when she wanted to. It would be commendable if she wasn't such a kidnapping piece of shit. "We're just passing through. Didn't stick the landing." She raised her wrist, as though that explained what 'passing through' meant.

"Kidnapping. Not passing through. _Kidnapping_ me." I helped clarify, but the man didn't seem interested.

"I know _exactly_ who you are," he said in a dark tone as he grabbed her shoulder and pulled it forward. It was possible they were going to have a dance off, but then I realized he was staring at the patch that was sewn onto her fatigue sleeves. "You're a _time agent_." He spat like it was some really messed up thing, though, from where I was standing, it didn't sound all that impressive. I mean, time _goblin_, or time _demon_, or even _evil_ time agent sounded more ominous then what he had said. They really needed to work on their theatrics.

The patch wasn't particularly damning either. It was a blue circle that kind of looked like a smiley face; if the face was missing eyes, and the mouth ended in two arrows. A clock face. It was a clock face. That makes more sense than a deranged smiley face. It was a relief I'd figured it out on my own.

"I'm _nobody_." Max insisted, snatching her arm away. "And we're leaving." She took a few more steps forward, but I ducked to the far side of the Tardis.

"And you?" He turned his thunderous gaze in my direction. "Are you also one of the cadets?"

"Uh. No. I work at a- I _manage_ a coffee shop." Yeah, you're title is _super_ important right now. Be sure to tell him about how you ordered a metric ton of coffee beans you didn't need too. Dumbass. "She showed up in my basement and kidnapped me." He continued to glare in my direction, but I was busy circling the Tardis as Max kept coming forward.

"Jesus, don't be such a child. We _really_ need to get out of here." Clearly the file hadn't warned her about how annoying I was either. That would be her downfall. When I appeared on the other side of the Tardis, the man jumped between us again, though he spared me a rather judgmental look as I passed him.

"Another one of your mistakes, is she?" Despite being generally disappointed with me, he seemed exceptionally furious with Max, which was a mark in my good column. "Brought her out here to kill her and erase whatever you've done? Did you really think I'd let you get away with that?"

"Uh…I'm not here to kill anyone." Max finally looked concerned by the twiggy man. About damn time. Although she looked generally surprised about the whole 'killing' bit. She was an exceptional actress. "Time agents don't go around killing people…"

"Right," he laughed, a joyless sound. "Your team hasn't been hunting down and exterminating anyone who gets in your way."

"Yeah, that's not at all what they do actually…are you _sure_ you're the Doctor?"

"_Hah_! Told you it wasn't him." Which meant he probably _was_ locked up inside the damn Tardis. I turned to the front door, and while trying to keep an eye out for the ass pinching dust bin, I pounded on the wood. "Doctor? Are you in there? He's locked it, so I can't get in."

"For the last time, I didn't _steal_ the Tardis!" He barked over his shoulder, still keeping an eye on Max as she brought her wrist up to fiddle with the dials on the manipulator.

"Whatever, we're getting the _hell_ out of here. I'm just going to do a recall-"

"Ah ah." The man pulled something that looked worryingly similar to a sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and aimed it at Max. It made the same exact noise, despite the fact that it was blue. Max's wrist sparked and she let out an undignified squawk. "You're not going anywhere. Because you're coming with us to answer for your crimes."

"I would like to see you try it, _asshole_." Max looked furious that he'd basically tried to electrocute her with her bracelet. She hunched down as he strode forward. As tall as he was, I definitely had money on Max. She had some serious muscle tone, and it was going to take some real Muhammad Ali moves to drop her.

Of course, I forgot about the fact the time lords were basically annoying Jedi's. Assuming I believed he was a time lord. Still kind of on the fence about that. But he dodged her first punch and tapped her in the forehead, causing her to collapse in a heap.

"Holy _shit_." I said, a little startled. Yeah, that was _definitely_ some Jedi bullshit. Even if I didn't believe he was the Doctor, he was definitely in the time lord family.

"Oswin, if you would." He spoke to the trash bin, already forgetting I was there.

"Why've I always got to carry the heavy stuff," it grumbled as a blue light beamed out from its eyestalk, lifting Max from the ground and levitating her toward the ship. The man led the way to the door, snapping his fingers to open it. Admittedly, that looked pretty slick. Which made him some kind of bizarro world Doctor, because _nothing_ my Doctor did could ever be mistaken for _slick._ They both stepped inside, and the door slammed behind them.

"Uh guys," no one emerged from the ship as the warping noise began, the wheezing sound grew louder as the dust kicked up around the Tardis and it gradually flickered out of view. "Oh for _fuck_ sake."


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: Wow. October just whizzed by there, huh? And like. Part of November. *cough* Anyway. Here's a belated update. *flees*_

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><p>Good. This is totally fine. Stranded on a planet I've never even heard of. Sounds about right. Did I remember my phone? The one the Doctor had upgraded so I could make a call from anywhere in the universe? The one he handed to me and said very seriously, <em>not<em> to lose it, because my life might depend on it someday? Also the one that had literally every phone number ever, so if I wanted to call my mother, I really needed that phone.

Yeah, that was sitting on the counter of the coffee shop.

Awesome. Nice to be back in the swing of things. How did I normally go about sorting this bullshit out?

Right, the blind panic. I already had the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I was started to hyperventilate, so I was already ahead of schedule. That was something.

And then the wheezing started.

Not me though, the Tardis. Well, some of it was probably me too.

"Thank every god known to man." My breath came out shaky and all my limbs started to give out as the blue box reappeared. It kicked up a nasty cloud of dust that I was pretty sure was going to stick with me in several places no matter how long I showered.

The door opened, but I was already doing the fifty yard dash to get inside.

"Oswin thought you might need-"

"You _think_?" I shot him a nasty look as I barreled past him. He was easy to push aside, I may not have had many muscles in my corner, but then neither did he.

"_Excuse_ me!" He sounded offended as I tried to shake the worst of the orange powder from my head.

"Doctor!" I shouted, ignoring him and marching deeper into the ship. "Hey! Where the hell are you? I need a lift home and some lunatic and his over-sized thimble just tried to leave me on a planet-" I nearly stumbled over Max who was handcuffed to the railing, a railing that had foam wrapped around the pipe with electrical tape. It was then that I realized that this was _nothing_ like the Tardis.

It was weird, darkish, and sort of _junky_? I was mindful to keep that thought to myself. While it didn't look like the Tardis on the inside, it certainly had from outside and the last thing I needed right now was to piss off some unfamiliar, but no less sentient spaceship when I was out in the middle of nowhere.

"What the _hell_ is going on? This isn't the Tardis." There were supports leading to the ceiling that had the ominous appearance of Burton-esque tree roots and random wires hung from the glass ceiling. In my experience, that meant you'd usually installed several things wrong, and were bound to get electrocuted.

It only happened the one time, stop judging me.

"Right," his hand landed on my shoulder and wrenched me around to face him. I was impressed his scrawny arms hadn't snapped in half in the process. He was pretty cross looking at this point, but it was hard not to be distracted by the numerous octagon cut outs that were all over the walls, and the general knock-off Gaudi look to the whole place. "I'm the Doctor. This is the Tardis. That's a dalek. Not a salt shaker, not a thimble, not a waste bin. And if I've got to say it again, I'm pitching you out into space. Have you got all that?"

He really was livid. And _orange_. Why was everything or- Wait. I pulled off my glasses and wiped the worst of the planetary film on my shirt. He was less orange now, but the rest of the place still had a very sunburnt look to it.

"I…yeah, I guess so." He didn't seem to want an argument, and while I didn't really believe him, I did believe he very seriously meant to pitch me back outside. It was weird how earnest he was. As much as I had serious doubts, he sure didn't seem to.

"Oh, _oh_!" That's when it clicked. Someone else who had looked different and forgotten all about who I was. "You're _dead_!" I was a little embarrassed it had taken me that long to figure out. I mean, this wasn't my first space rodeo. "I mean, not _now_, obviously. You _were_ dead. You died. Before." I was smiling when I finally got it all out, except that smile melted pretty quickly off my face, because that meant the Doctor had _died_.

He hadn't just been kidnapped and stuffed into the back somewhere. This was him. We left him to travel space, and he'd gotten himself killed. Now I just felt shitty.

"Sorry about that," I offered. It probably had sucked for him too. "I didn't recognize you with the new face. Plus you forgot me, _rude_." I chided, but my heart wasn't really in it. There would be no more enormous chin. No more bow tie. No more really painfully awkward attempts at talking about feelings or boyfriends. No more obnoxious exuberance for the most mind numbingly mundane things.

There was this sort of hollow feeling in my chest now that had replace the irritation. It was an uneasy shift, and while my brain was telling me he was still alive, standing in front of me, and maybe a little crankier than usual. It was pretty clear that all the little idiotic things that had made him my idiot friend were missing.

"_What_?" His fury had been replaced with utter confusion. "What are you talking about? I haven't died in ages. How do you know about regenerations anyhow? Who _are_ you?"

"I'm a wizard. I know everything." I waved off his concern, trying to compartmentalize my unhappiness, because he clearly wasn't interested in a sappy reunion. "How long have you been gone for? I mean, when you said I should take a break, I was thinking a few _months_, not long enough for you to get yourself _killed_." My tone had gotten sharper at the end, like if I had been around, he might have avoided getting dead in the first place. Which was a joke, since it would have been more likely that _I'd_ have gotten killed. Permanently. I've never had a whole lot of rationality tied into my emotions. He was still staring at me, like I'd grown a tentacle out of my forehead. "Again, sorry. That you died."

"I haven't been- Listen, I think you've got me confused with someone else."

"Yeah, we had this argument. You threatened to throw me outside, remember? You said you're the Doctor, you said this-" I took another critical look at the surrounding ship. "This is the Tardis. I _believe_ you. But you didn't look like this when I knew you. So clearly something happened. Where's Donna? I'm sure she can bring us both up to speed." That's really who I should have been looking for all along. Donna, the _reliable_ one.

"Donna?" He looked like I'd kicked him in the gut. "Donna Noble?"

"Yeah, the brassy loud one? Seriously? You forgot _Donna_? Look, I don't care what kind of space cannon you got shot out of, _everyone_ remembers-"

"I remember Donna," he said sharply, his face had twisted into something bitter. "She's not here. She can _never_ be here." He turned to the console and twisted some of the dials. "Where do you live?"

"Uh, what do you mean-"

"Where do you live." His voice was surprisingly harsh for such a scrawny man. I didn't really want to push my luck, but if he had died, and something happened to Donna…

"Listen, if you've screwed up Donna, or she's in trouble, or… so help me, Buzz Lightyear, there better not _be_ another or. Or you're going to have to grow a new face much sooner than you-"

"_Donna_," he hissed as he turned back around. This man was not the Doctor, this man was an angry god. I took a step back, mentally unprepared to have my ass beaten by a straw man. "Has _nothing_ to do with you. Don't speak about her again. Now, do you want to go home?"

It was one of the more terrifying ultimatums I've ever gotten. "Yes." I said, in a very small voice.

"Then where do you live." He shot me another nasty look before returning his attention to the console.

"Uh. Wolcott. Connecticut." Now I was extremely worried about Donna. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

"Right." He set about moving other dials and buttons as he circled the controls in a very deliberate way. The ship around us shook violently and I was thrown into the railing, accidently stepping on Max's leg. She was still unconscious, and I can't say that I was particularly sorry that I'd done it.

"Is he always like this?" I asked Oswin in a quieter tone as I struggled to stay upright.

"He's having a rough patch." It was hard to tell if that was sarcasm. For some reason I always heard robots as sarcastic.

"Clearly."

"Wolcott?" He called from the other side of the room as the Tardis finally shook to a standstill. "Are you sure?" His dark look had been replaced with a skeptical one.

"Uh. Yeah." It was the same boring little town where I'd lived my entire life. I was pretty certain. "Is it really that hard to find?"

"No," ah, there was that surly look. "We've landed. Just out of curiosity though, when was the last time you were here?"

"This morning. When I got kidnapped? Please tell me she didn't land us at some weird point in time. I'm not in the mood for the middle ages, and I really can't handle future disco right now."

"Future disco?"

"Trends cycle, it's only a matter of time before disco comes back. It's so important that I don't hear 'Disco Duck'. I just can't handle that today."

He stared blankly at me for a moment. "A couple of things. They're going to call it Beatronix."

"I already didn't want to know that."

"And it's August 3rd, 2014."

"Good, that's the same day I left. Worst case scenario I lost a couple hours." I headed for the doors, relieved that at least something had gone right. The important thing now was to find the Professor and make him deal with whatever mess the Doctor had gotten himself into. That was really _really_ important.

"Well, the thing is…"

The ominous trailing off is what stopped me before I reached the doors.

"The thing is _what_?" He'd already left a sour taste in my mouth with Beatronix, he was well above his quota for ruining my day.

"Well, we're here, but there's nothing _out_ there."

"Did you miss downtown?" It was pretty easy to do, since it was so small. "If we're not too far out I can probably take the bus." Really, anything to get me off the crazy train at this point was acceptable.

"No, we're in the center. Did you know about the attack?" My blank face sort of answered the question for him, so he continued. "A year ago, there was a massive explosion. Wiped everything out. There's nothing left in Wolcott."

I smirked. "Right. Except I was there this morning. I think I would have noticed that kind of destruction. You sure you haven't got the wrong Wolcott?"

He shook his head. "Wolcott, Connecticut. County of New Haven. Latitude 42 degrees north, 72ish degrees west."

"No one knows the latitude of anything other than the equator. You know that, right?"

"Here," he said with a huff, pulling the screen forward so I could see it. There was a large blinking dot on a map that was shaped pretty convincingly like Connecticut. A few of the neighboring towns were labeled too.

"Yep. That's what it looks like on a map."

"No, this is where we _are_. And this," he tapped the screen a few more times. "Is what it looks like right _now_."

For a moment I thought he was kidding, because it looked nearly the same as the place we had just left. Flat, dusty, devoid of any distinguishing features. But then I spotted some differences, a few rocks, the husk of a tree that had been scorched to the roots. In the distance, a brick wall, but most of it had crumbled away. I could still see the shattered plaque that identified it as the old library.

"Well," I felt a bit wobbly as I backed away from the screen. "Well that's _wrong_." I met his eyes, but it didn't look like he was playing a joke. Which made the whole thing worse. "No." I said very firmly. And then I ran for the door.

He shouted something but I wasn't listening. I burst through the door and made it two steps before I realized he was right.

The screen wasn't wrong. There was _nothing_ here. Everything was destroyed, everything was _dead_. It was covered in a gray film and the air smelled like an old fire pit. I retreated slowly until my back hit the Tardis. "No." Was the only word I could form, and so I said it a few more times hoping it might make it true. "_Hell_ no."


	5. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hello all, I just wanted to say thank you for all being so lovely! Stay fabulous kids. _

* * *

><p>It felt like someone had run a bulldozer over me. I couldn't catch my breath and I fell against the Tardis, my legs refusing to hold me upright in their current noodle form.<p>

No. No. _No._

I was _just_ here. Not more than an hour ago. With the Professor. Where was he? What happened? Was he-

_NO_. The voice of denial asserted itself rather aggressively. I'd dealt with him dying like an asshole one time too many. This _wasn't_ happening again.

We should have been safe here. That had been the whole point of leaving the Tardis. This was _not_ okay. This was so far from okay I was going to need a compass and Leif Erikson to find my way back. I was not even _remotely_ okay.

The rolling dustbin appeared before me, its long stalk swiveled toward in my direction. "Excuse me," it said, very polite for a robot. "Are you alright?"

I fixed its beady blue eye with the most vicious glare I could muster. "Are you fucking _kidding_-"

"What did you say your name was again?" The crackpot interrupted the ass tearing I was about to give this robot, but that was fine, because with a few pronoun adjustments, I could easily tailor the tirade for him. I gritted my teeth and stood back up. The lump in my throat was the size of a walrus, but damned if I was going to let Dorothy and the Tin Man see me lose my shit.

"Fitzgerald. Grant. Now who the _hell_ is going to explain what happened here?"

"Yep," he nodded, instead of answering, what I had thought, had been a very threatening question. "Sorry Fitzgerald. You've been declared dead."

Punching him probably wasn't a real option, he had just tried to leave me on a planet. Worst case scenario, he'd just leave me here. Well, no, worst case is he'd get me back on the Tardis and take me to the planet of cheeto dust and then leave me _there_ again. Okay, punching will be a last resort.

"Yeah, from the looks of things, everyone with a home address here probably got a death certificate." Everyone. Every single person who had lived here. They were dead. My denial worked into overtime. Maybe there was a warning, maybe some kind of evacuation. Or maybe some stupid space bullshit blew them all to hell and everyone died before they could do anything at all.

And that was probably _my_ fault. Because it usually was-

Keep it together.

"Well, sure, but _this_ mess," he waved his hand at the outside, like it was just a minor incident. "This all happened a year ago. You were only declared dead two weeks back."

"So what?" Did it really make a difference that the government was so busy doing absolutely nothing that they had failed to file the paperwork until only recently?

"You didn't die here. It looks like, well, I'm guessing a bit, but I think it's an old Torchwood facility in Cardiff. There's quite a bit redacted here…"

"Listen, if you're just making shit up."

"No, I'm not." He gave me a rather pointedly irritated look. "Come see for yourself. Fitzgerald Lee Grant. Born February 11th, 1989. Died July 20th, 2014." He read it off the screen as I approached. It wasn't just a list of numbers he was looking at, it was a file. One that was alarmingly accurate, aside from the whole death bit.

More disconcerting was the fact that it had a picture. It was _me_.

Except it was _wrong_. The same round face was hollowed out. My grey eyes stared back at me, dull and listless. And with dark circles beneath that made it look like I hadn't slept in years. My hair had been shaved, patches were missing entirely.

I poked at my cheeks in disbelief. I was a little on the fluffier side. Diets were great and all, but so is pizza. But this was by no means a 'healthy' version of me. This was gaunt, skeletal. It looked like I was already dead when they had taken the photo.

"What. The. Hell."

"That's you, yes?" He asked, comparing me to the image on the screen.

"Does it _look_ like me?" I was offended, but the likeness was pretty obvious.

"Well," he had the decency to try and pretend his answer wasn't 'yes'. "Have you got a sibling? A twin maybe?"

"No. And for the record," I shot him a look as I gestured at the screen. "This? Really uncool way to deliver that kind of news." The rest of my world was shattered, what was another body on the pile. He didn't really look chastised.

"I wonder…" his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared at me. Then he spun quickly to where Max was still slumped over, her one arm dangling above her head where it was chained to the railing. My kidnapper was still out cold, oblivious to the crisis I was having. Which was rude, all things considered.

He pulled out his annoyingly blue screwdriver and scanned the manipulator on her wrist. "Huh." He grunted to himself.

"…care to elaborate?" I asked in the ensuing silence.

"Well, the good news is that you're not really dead."

"I think we already established that, considering I'm standing right here. Whatever that stupid little flashlight cost, you overpaid."

"It's not a flashlight, it's-"

"Sonic screwdriver. Got it. Don't care. Is there _actual_ good news? Because there really needs to be." It felt nice to be the angry one again. He was too wrapped up in his Scooby-doo mystery to get properly annoyed with me.

"Well, the _reason_ you're not dead," he stood up, tucking the sonic away. "Is because this isn't _your_ universe."

Yeah. I ran that through my head a few times before I decided it just didn't make any sense.

"Wanna run that by me again?" I could shake him violently for the answers, but I worried he might just snap like a twig. I also worried I might enjoy that.

"The Tardis has been picking up some unusual patterns in the space time continuum. Just in the last week-"

"Two weeks." Oswin added in what passed as cheerful.

"Alright, the last _two_- Hold on, how do _you_ know that?" He paused mid-explanation to shoot the dalek a scowl.

"I plug into the mainframe when you sleep."

Well that's a creepy admission. That's one dangerous step closer to 'I let out all the oxygen while you're not paying close enough attention'. Note to self, keep an eye on the robot.

"You can't just plug into the mainframe, it's a complicated sys- Oh of course you bloody can," he muttered bitterly as he ruffled his hair. "You're some kind of absurd _super_ dalek, aren't you?" He'd meant to be patronizing.

"Yes. Yes I am." It was really pleased with itself for a talking recycling bin.

"I'm glad you guys have some kind of rapport, really. But maybe you could get to the part where you explain."

"Right, yes. Anyway. The spaces between universes have gone a bit…" he was doing some kind of vague gesturing with his hands which wasn't really clarifying anything. "Wobbly. Things are unraveling. Little pockets are being ripped through, at sporadic intervals. Apparently, you two have fallen through one."

"I've been telling him to investigate it for ages." Oswin piped up.

"Two weeks isn't exactly ages," the Doctor shot the mouthy dalek a look. "It's not likely to do any good. There's nothing for it this time. End of the line I suppose." He said with a sigh.

"It's the universe, Doctor. It's not going to end."

"Everything ends." He said in an irritatingly sage-like manner.

These people were ridiculous, well, this person, and his little metallic sidekick.

"Only it doesn't. Because we've seen the future. We've _been _there."

"Time can be rewritten."

"And this is _exactly_ why it's never any fun traveling with a time lord." Oswin was addressing me now, or at least, the eyestalk was.

"They can be kind of a pain in the ass." I agreed. But if anything, this emo piss baby quitter was nothing like my Doctor. _Everything ends_. Ooh, I'm a spooky old man making spooky bullshit commentary. Get over yourself.

"Yeah," the machine sounded smug now. "You've traveled with him."

"Uh-huh. Great. Can we go back to the part about people falling through universes? Because they don't do that." Someone would have mentioned it if they did. Einstein. Or Jesus. It would have come up.

"No, of course not. You fell through a hole." The Doctor clarified. "_Between_ universes. And landed here."

"That's…still not a thing." It wasn't a thing that made sense anyway.

"Well, parallel universes are a thing, or you died two weeks ago from…" he trailed off as he read the screen carefully. "A gunshot wound to the head. Although that was mainly due to a secondary consciousness gaining control of the host?" He frowned at the rest of the report.

"Oh. That." Secondary consciousness. Yeah, that sounded familiar. A bullet to the head was also probably a logical way to solve it. In a parallel universe. He should have just led with that. If it's a Star Trek plotline I can follow it. Probably.

"Have you _got_ a secondary consciousness?" The Doctor shot me a look.

"Oh, no. He's gone. We shared brain space for a little bit, but apparently, time lord's burn through people. So I kicked him to the curb. It was kind of a whole thing."

"A _time lord_ conscious?" His eyebrows jumped two inches. "That's _impossible_."

"Apparently not." I shrugged.

"But…you can't- a human's physiology isn't _built_ to contain that kind of energy."

"Yeah, that's…why we got rid of him? The whole meltdown and almost dying really was a selling point. Actually, the Professor kind of ninja'd him out of me, cause he's an asshole. But it mostly worked out-"

"Who's the Professor?" He had this look on his face like each new thing that came out of my mouth was more unlikely than the last. It was kind of nice to be the one with all the answers. I wondered if this was how the Doctor felt most of the time.

"Oh, he used to be the Master I guess, but then he regenerated- well, _twice_ actually. But he goes by- Yeaugh!" I jumped two feet in the air when someone's hand clasped tight around my ankle.

Turns out it was just Max waking up, but still. Not cool.

"Don't," she mumbled, her voice still garbled with sleep. "Make sure you don't tell them anything." She yawned, like she had just been taking a nap instead of getting Yoda'd to sleep or whatever the hell it was the Doctor had done.

"Uh." I met the Doctor's gaze uncomfortably. "Anything like…what?"

"_Anything_ anything." She finally released my leg and sat upright, glowering at the handcuff that had her wrist pinned overhead. "We're not supposed to be here. We've slipped through to a…a pocket universe or something. I didn't pick up on it before, but this is _not_ where we're supposed to be-"

"Yeah, we sorted that bit already." The Doctor stuffed his hands into his pocket as he fixed Max with a stern glare. "Now who are you?"

"I already told you-"

"You can tell me who you are, or I can rip it out of your head." The Doctor crouched near her, fixing her with another of his nasty glares.

"You know, head ripping sounds like maybe not such a great idea." My kidnapper wasn't my favorite, but it also freaked me out that the Doctor, of all people, was suggesting he was willing to do it. This really was some kind of bizzaro world. I was not a fan so far.

"My name is Max." She muttered, not eager to test his mind reading abilities.

"And what are you trying to hide, Max? You've let a time lord conscious get loose under your watch?"

"What? No, I'm not- We fixed that already. I literally _just_ explained that."

Max's eyes met mine, something akin to a white hot fury rippled through her body. "You didn't tell him anything." There was a lot of threat in that question that wasn't really a question. I was a little unsettled, even knowing she was physically restrained.

"Uh, no," my voice was unnaturally high for some strange reason. "Not really. Like, not _too_ much-" I cleared my throat, trying to be super casual about the whole thing. It didn't help that I now had the undivided attention of the Doctor and the knock-off R2D2, in addition to the woman who wanted to straight up murder me. "Just, out of curiosity. How much would be too much?"

"Everything. _Anything_. He's the Doctor. Any tiny insignificant detail from your life could kill thousands, anything more than that could throw the entire universe off its intended trajectory and destroy billions of lives."

"_Huh_." I nodded like I was admiring a piece of art I didn't really understand. I wiped my hands carefully on the filthy apron I was still wearing, admiring the coating of orange. "I might have told him, like, just a _few_-" I sighed. "I told him stuff."

"_Jesus_ Fitz!" She slammed her head against the railing, a slew of muttered curses followed shortly after.

"Just about _me_ though. And technically I'm dead here, so I don't think I'm going to be throwing off any trajectories or whatever dramatic garbage you're spewing-" she was a professional glarer, I had to give her that. She looked like she'd been dealing with these kind of half-assed arguments for years. "Listen, _you_ kidnapped me. You brought me here. This is not on me. Regardless, nothing's going to happen, so don't worry about it."

Just then a shrill alarm began to ring from the center console. The Doctor jumped up, spry for a grumpy fellow and rushed to find the source.

I made the mistake of meeting Max's eyes again. She was still glaring, and I was cursing my crap luck.

"Is that an alarm for like, a timer?" I asked, it's possible it was just a coincidence. Probably for someone who wasn't me though.

"No. It's an alarm like 'the bad thing is happening'." Oswin helpfully answered.

"It's _very_ bad," the Doctor said as he stared at the screen, and then shot Max a look. "Friends of yours."

"I don't have any friends here." She shot me an annoyed look, like I was supposed to be hurt that we hadn't bonded yet. _Please_.

"Torchwood." The Doctor said darkly. He ran in circles around the console, pushing buttons as he went. It was exhausting just watching him. If he was as old as he always claimed, you'd think he'd invented a more streamlined system. Or at least program the robot to push all the flickering lights.

"Wait, Torchwood like that team? Aren't they good guys-"

"Oswin! They've locked us!" The Doctor shouted, slamming a mallet against the console which looked less like a driving technique and more like something an idiot would do because his ship wasn't cooperating. "See if you can't untangle the programming."

"On it." The robot chirped back, its mechanical arm extended and transformed, docking somewhere beneath the center of the console.

The Doctor dropped the mallet and headed for the doors, pulling the sonic from his pocket.

"Hang on, where are _you_ going?" The alarms were subdued, but still ringing, so I had to assume something was still wrong. Also he had that sort of grim and determined face, and while he was generally grumpy looking, this had a more severe and immediate quality to it.

"I'm going to buy us some time." He said as he marched out the doors.

"Yeah, alright lone ranger." I shook my head. If it was Torchwood though, that meant Jack, or at least Jack's team. I'd met a few of them. They were nice people. There was no earthly reason why the Doctor should have an alarm installed for them. "You know, maybe I'll go make sure he doesn't start world war three out there with his buzzkill attitude."

"It couldn't hurt." Oswin said.

"No, Fitz. Do _not _go out there!" Max jerked against the railing as I headed for the door.

"Yeah, alright _mom_." I snorted before stepping back outside. Appeasing my kidnapper was not on my to-do list today.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor snarled as I ran into the back of him. The idiot had stopped like two feet beyond the doors. I though he was actually going to investigate something, not step outside for a breather.

"I'm here to help with your public relations. Because you're terrible at it. The robot agrees."

"Oswin did no such thing," I was impressed he even argued it. "I don't know who you think you are, but you're on my ship, in _my _universe, so you're going to start-"

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" We both started at the voice who had slunk up behind the Doctor. I probably should have noticed, since there was a small scooter, motorcycle? Some sort of traveling device parked next to the charcoal tree stump where there hadn't been before.

The good news, was I recognized the handsome face, if not the uniform. It was a lot of black, and a lot of utilitarian pockets. I would have thought Jack would have more style than that.

"Finally, someone normal." It was a relief to see his grinning face, even if he looked a little smug. I rolled my eyes at the Doctor's bewildered look and went to receive my usual hug when I noticed the matching black rifle that was suddenly aimed directly at me. "O…kay."

"Whoa there, sister. There's time to get friendly after we get you in a holding cell. I'm here for business right now. It's been a long time, Doctor." His grin was kind of scary now, too many teeth showing as he circled us slowly, like we were some kind of animal caught in a snare. "Didn't know you were taking on companions again."

"She's _not_ my companion." The Doctor spat, a little rudely. I was totally companion material, hell I _was_ a companion. What right did this parallel little jerk have to be offended by Jack suggesting it?

Jack with the enormous gun and scary eyes.

"Right, still broken up about the last two, huh? Too bad we had to scrape them off the pavement-"

"Don't you _dare_." His voice could have cut diamonds and even Jack's grin somewhat faded.

"It is hard to keep them alive. In your defense, they're pretty fragile. You still keeping that rusty bucket of yours? It must be nice to have something around that's as dead inside as you. I myself prefer the feel of warm flesh, but different strokes-"

"I happen to know that you prefer the feel of whatever's available. So don't try and take the high road on that one, guy." My angry glare wasn't quite as cutting as the Doctors, but I like to think I made up for it with my sparkling personality.

"Fitzgerald, don't." The Doctor warned me, but there was almost the hint of approval in his tone.

"Sorry, this guy's an _asshole_. I can see why he gets a special alarm."

Jack's face turned to a sneer. "I like it when they have a mouth on them," he stepped forward faster than I could backpedal and he gripped my chin with one, surprisingly strong, hand. "They're that much more _satisfying_ when they finally snap." From the way he was clenching my face, it became clear he was actually intent on crushing my jaw. I wasn't entirely sure it was physically possible, but the effort was pretty fucking painful anyway.

"Gleh!" Was all I could managed to say in my defense, which sucked, because they weren't great last words if this guy was about to tear my jaw off.

"Jack, that's enough." The Doctor said in a warning tone. Still got the feeling it was more out of his dislike for Jack, than his concern on my behalf, but I was going to take what I could get.

"Hold on," he was close enough now that I could smell the stale whisky on him. Good to see he got that alcohol problem completely under control. "I know you."

"Nfkl?" His grip had loosened, but not enough for me to form words.

"I _shot _you." He hissed. "You're _dead_. We burned your body. What the hell are you?" He clearly wasn't looking for an answer, because he brought the muzzle of the gun to my temple, intent on correcting the mistake.

"Nhm!" I tried to shake my head, but that just sort of popped my jaw painfully. I flinched as the crack of the bullet ripped through my senses. I hadn't expected to have time to flinch, what with my head exploding. But I had never died before, _officially_, so I couldn't really tell.

I grew increasingly suspicious as I fell to the ground. Or rather, was dragged to the ground by Jack's collapsing weight. He finally let go as I slammed bodily into him, crushing the wind out of him as we hit the ground.

So, probably not dying then.

"Ugh," I rolled to the side. And then just to be safe, scuffled a little further away. The whole bottom half of my face felt like I'd hit it with a sledgehammer. Which was a marked improvement from my brain being putty, but it still wasn't great. I started to dust myself off when I realized there was a large crimson stain down the center of my apron. "Oh _shit_, he shot me!"

"Oh get up." The Doctor scowled, stepping over Jack to help hoist me to my feet.

"Uh, you gotta work on your people skills, buddy. I'm bleeding to death." I mean, it definitely _looked_ like I was. Still waiting for the residual shock to fade so I could figure out where exactly he'd shot me.

"I shot Jack," a woman stepped out from behind the Tardis. "That's his blood on your apron."

Jack did have a rather large hole in his chest, which was now oozing freely, making a sizable puddle in the dirt.

"Well," I untied the knot at my back and chucked the apron at Jack's feet. "That's probably not work safe anymore."

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," I shook my head. "Thanks, by the way. For doing something." I resisted the urge to give a pointed glare at the Doctor, but I got the feeling he picked up on it anyway.

She was like a sleek assassin in all black, save the burgundy leather jacket she wore over the top of it. Her skin was dark like Max's, and she had a thin scar that started beneath her left eyebrow and ended just below her ear.

"Happy to help." She nodded with an unsure smile. Which would make her, by far, the friendliest person I'd met. "Who are you?"

"Fitz. I've been kidnapped. And everyone I've met so far is unpleasant. Or a dalek."

She gave a short bark of laughter. "Sorry to hear that Fitz, I'm Martha Jones," she shook my hand like we were at a party, and not standing over Jack's semi-undead body. Her eyes flicked to the Doctor and most of the warmth vanished. "Doctor."

"Lieutenant." He said with a short nod.

"Picked up a wave that Torchwood might have tailed your signal."

"Right, well. You've sorted that. Thanks." He didn't sound remotely appreciative and he started for the Tardis.

"I'm also here to retrieve you." There was a hard edge in her voice now. So the Doctor had ruined the one friendly I had going over here, great.

"Ah, always that last bit, isn't there?" His voice was bitter as he faced her again. "Retrieved. Like a _pet_. On who's authority."

"Who do you _think_?" Martha's patience had clearly run past its reserves. I tried to just keep out of sight.

"Well you can tell the Master that if he wants to have a chat, I've got a comm in the Tardis." He turned back to the Tardis, once again making to leave. I followed a little closer, because I could absolutely see him trying to leave me behind again.

"…Wait, did you say the _Master_?"

"It's important." Martha really was some kind of a saint. She had that gun, all she had to do was shoot him. I'm sure it was very tempting for her. I resisted the urge to encourage her. "Says it's to do with the Toclafane."

The Doctor stared at her. "We both know that's made up. And it was years ago."

"We do know that. And he knows that. Which is why I assumed it meant something more, and that you'd be smart enough to figure it out. Guess I was wrong."

"Hah, good one-" I raised my arm to high-five her, but she gave me a bizarre look and I slowly lowered my hand.

"Right then," the Doctor said after a bit. "We'll be along." He finally opened the door, and to my relief, he didn't slam it shut before I could get inside.

"Seriously though, were you guys talking about _the_ Master? Or is this some kind of weird military designation you've got going on?"


End file.
